[515] This was noticed by Dr. Johnson. He thus describes a meeting between the young laird of Coll and some of his “subjects:”—“Wherever we roved, we were pleased to see the reverence with which his subjects regarded him. He did not endeavour to dazzle them by any magnificence of dress,—his only distinction was a feather in his bonnet; but as soon as he appeared, they forsook their work and clustered about him: he took them by the hand, and they seemed mutually delighted. He has the proper disposition of a chieftain, and seems desirous to continue the customs of his house. The bagpiper played regularly when dinner was served, whose person and dress made a good appearance; and he brought no disgrace upon the family of Rankin, which has long supplied the lairds of Coll with hereditary music.”—Journey to the Western Islands.
[516] Stewart’s Sketches, vol. i. p. 46, &c.—Dalrymple’s Memoirs.
[517] Stewart, vol. i. p. 50.
[518] A picture of the horse was in the possession of the late General Stewart of Garth, being a legacy bequeathed to him by the daughter of Mr. Menzies. “A brother of Macnaughton,” says the General, “lived for many years on the estate of Garth, and died in 1790. He always went about armed, at least so far armed, that when debarred wearing a sword or dirk, he slung a large long knife in his belt. He was one of the last I recollect of the ancient race, and gave a very favourable impression of their general manner and appearance. He was a smith by trade, and although of the lowest order of the people, he walked about with an air and manner that might have become a field-marshal. He spoke with great force and fluency of language, and, although most respectful to those to whom he thought respect was due, he had an appearance of independence and ease, that strangers, ignorant of the language and character of the people, might have supposed to proceed from impudence. As he always carried arms when legally permitted, so he showed on one occasion that he knew how to handle them. When the Black Watch was quartered on the banks of the rivers Tay and Lyon, in 1741, an affray arose between a few of the soldiers and some of the people at a fair at Kenmore. Some of the Breadalbane men took the part of the soldiers, and, as many were armed, swords were quickly drawn, and one of the former killed, when their opponents, with whom was Macnaughton, and a smith, (to whom he was then an apprentice,) retreated and fled to the ferry-boat across the Tay. There was no bridge, and the ferryman, on seeing the fray, chained his boat. Macnaughton was the first at the river side, and leaping into the boat, followed by his master, the smith, with a stroke of his broadsword cut the chain, and crossing the river, fixed the boat on the opposite side, and thus prevented an immediate pursuit. Indeed no farther steps were taken. The Earl of Breadalbane, who was then at Taymouth, was immediately sent for. On inquiry, he found that the whole had originated from an accidental reflection thrown out by a soldier of one of the Argyle companies against the Atholemen, then supposed to be Jacobites, and that it was difficult to ascertain who gave the fatal blow. The man who was killed was an old warrior of nearly eighty years of age. He had been with Lord Breadalbane’s men, under Campbell of Glenlyon, at the battle of Sheriffmuir; and, as his side lost their cause, he swore never to shave again. He kept his word, and as his beard grew till it reached his girdle, he got the name of Padric-na-Phaisaig, ‘Peter with the Beard.’”
[519] The following amusing anecdote of this man is related by General Stewart:—“On one occasion he met with an officer of the garrison of Fort-William on the mountains of Lochaber. The officer told him that he suspected he had lost his way, and, having a large sum of money for the garrison, was afraid of meeting the sergeant Mor; he therefore requested that the stranger would accompany him on his road. The other agreed; and, while they walked on, they talked much of the sergeant and his feats, the officer using much freedom with his name, calling him robber, murderer.—‘Stop there,’ interrupted his companion, ‘he does indeed take the cattle of the whigs and you Sassanachs, but neither he nor his cearnachs ever shed innocent blood; except once,’ added he, ‘that I was unfortunate at Braemar, when a man was killed, but I immediately ordered the creach (the spoil) to be abandoned, and left to the owners, retreating as fast as we could after such a misfortune!’ ‘You,’ says the officer, ‘what had you to do with the affair?’ ‘I am John Du Cameron,—I am the sergeant Mor; there is the road to Inverlochay,—you cannot now mistake it. You and your money are safe. Tell your governor to send a more wary messenger for his gold. Tell him also, that, although an outlaw, and forced to live on the public, I am a soldier as well as himself, and would despise taking his gold from a defenceless man who confided in me.’ The officer lost no time in reaching the garrison, and never forgot the adventure, which he frequently related.”
[CHAPTER XIX.]
A.D. 1660–1689.
BRITISH SOVEREIGNS:—
Charles II., 1660–1685. James II., (VII. of Scotland,) 1685–1688.